


Another Year

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Sex, M/M, Romantic Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24894976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: They’d talked. They’d talked that night under Silvia’s bed, talked the next morning before anyone else had woken up. Nico had explained, or at least tried his best to explain all the confusing things that had happened with Luai, the feelings he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around no matter how much he thought about it, how hard it had been to figure out what was real and what wasn’t after Luai had gone away.They had talked, but something still wasn’t quite right.
Relationships: Niccolò Fares/Martino Rametta
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	Another Year

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://azozzoni.tumblr.com).

The bedroom door shut behind Nico with a soft click, and Nico paused as his eyes fell over Martino in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist, scrolling through his phone. Leaning against the door, Nico smiled to himself, watching the way Martino yawned and leaned over to plug his phone in.

“What are you smiling at?” Martino asked as he came back, eyebrows rising at Nico by the door.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head, moving over to the bed finally and pulling back the covers.

It was still tentative, having Martino back at the apartment, but God, Nico had missed him. He’d missed the way Martino pulled the covers to his side to let Nico slide in, how Martino always switched off his lamp first, the way Martino fluffed his pillow before settling in, like a cat curling up to sleep.

Nico set his brick of a phone on the nightstand as he smoothed the covers over his stomach. Glancing up from the space between them, he let his gaze fall on Martino, the way he slid down under the sheets, reaching over and turning off his lamp.

Lying down, Nico left the sheets puddled around his waist—it was warm in the apartment, the small fan in the corner barely blowing enough air, the window open a crack, the sounds of the street below flooding inside. He didn’t turn off the lamp quite yet even though he knew Martino was waiting for him to do it.

“It’s still your birthday,” he said after a second, contemplating the pattern on the ceiling, swirls of plaster that someone had probably done by hand a long time ago. “For another hour or so.”

“Mm,” Martino hummed in agreement, still too far away when Nico glanced over.

They’d talked. They’d talked that night under Silvia’s bed, talked the next morning before anyone else had woken up. Nico had explained, or at least tried his best to explain all the confusing things that had happened with Luai, the feelings he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around no matter how much he thought about it, how hard it had been to figure out what was real and what wasn’t after Luai had gone away.

And Martino had come home, left Filippo’s place and come home with Nico, where the dresser was overflowing with blue shirts and Martino’s shoes were piled by the door, and where Nico always made sure they had plenty of amaretti cookies because he knew how much Martino liked them. It was their home, not just Nico’s, and it had felt empty without him.

They had talked, but something still wasn’t quite right.

Exhaling a soft breath, Nico twisted to gaze at Martino, the way he had his eyes closed, hands resting on his stomach, an errant curl sticking out over his ear.

“Did you get everything you wanted?”

Nico couldn’t help thinking of the sweater he’d given Marti—it felt so insignificant, so last-minute, as though he hadn’t tried at all, but in the confusion and despair of the break-up, of Martino walking out and his heart breaking in two, the last thing on his mind had been a birthday gift.

Martino opened his eyes after a second, blinking in the dim lamp-light, a soft quirk to the edge of his lips.

“I think so,” he said finally, turning his head to gaze at Nico.

As they lay there, Nico couldn’t help remembering the first time, the first time he’d woken up to Martino in his bed—Martino still so shy, unable to hide his blush when Nico curled up into him, kissed him softly awake. Everything had felt magical that morning, unbreakable.

There were miles between them now, even if it was only a few inches on the mattress.

Nico wanted to reach out, to brush the curl behind Martino’s ear. He was sure Martino would let him, might even smile at him the way he’d done earlier on the beach, like things were going to be okay.

“Marti,” he said slowly, inching closer on the pillow, sheets fluttering as the fan caught the edge.

“Don’t,” Martino said instead of letting Nico finish, shaking his head, eyes landing on Nico’s, skating over his face as they lay there in the warm light casting shadows on the walls. “I don’t need any more answers tonight.”

For a second, Nico merely gazed at Martino, the shadows on his face, the way he blinked tiredly but didn’t close his eyes, didn’t look away from Nico’s gaze as they lay there.

They met in the middle this time, Nico drawing Martino’s lips to his, Martino’s leg sliding between his thigh, Martino’s hand gliding up his shoulder blade as their lips met in a slow, careful dance. It was a familiar one, one Nico knew well enough by now, the slide of Marti’s tongue over his own, the angle Martino tilted his head to catch Nico’s lips as they melted together.

But it felt different, a little slower, a little more like the first time all over again as Nico kept on kissing Marti. 

They hadn’t done this, not since before the fight, before Martino had stormed out and not come back. Something had been in the way, even after Silvia’s party, as if they weren’t quite sure. Nico hated feeling like that, especially with Martino. He’d always been so sure where Martino had been concerned.

His hands were on Martino’s neck as their lips moved together, a warm, soft heat Nico felt echo down his spine. It wasn’t urgent, not rough or desperate as Martino scooted closer, got his hands under the hem of Nico’s shirt, fingers tracing gentle lines over his skin.

They had plenty of time, Nico thought, stroking his fingers through Martino’s hair, curling over the shell of his ear, drinking in the noise Martino made, almost a sigh, not quite a hum. Tugging at his bottom lip, Nico deepened the kiss, feeling Martino’s fingers tighten around his waist.

“Ni,” Martino breathed and Nico felt him swallow against his lips as he moved down his neck, tilting Martino’s chin back, revealing a blank canvas of skin. 

He took his time, pressing each kiss to Martino’s skin, not rushed like that time at the cabin, but slow and deliberate, each one carefully placed down his throat. His own heart thrummed against Martino’s, chest to chest, Martino’s hand stilled against his lower back, as though he’d forgotten about it completely, distracted by Nico’s lips.

Nuzzling Martino’s throat, Nico moved slowly, edging a hand down to Martino’s hip, pausing at the waistline of his boxers. Martino shivered at Nico’s fingers on his waist, a hot huff of breath into his hair, a soft kind of wanting as he stretched his neck back further for Nico, exposing the sharp collar bones under the loose neck of his old teeshirt.

It was Martino like this, so pliant under Nico’s touch, that made Nico’s heart clench, so full of emotions he could never explain, not in simple words, not the way Martino seemed to be able to. He loved Martino, more than words could ever properly express, had been lost without him those few weeks they were apart. An ugly sweater and a promise of honesty wasn’t nearly enough.

He didn’t need any words this time, pulling away from Martino’s neck, the darkening mark left on his throat, a nudge on his hip, easing Martino to roll over, facing away from Nico now as Nico slid in behind him.

Martino said nothing except to sigh and reach for Nico, a hand grazing down the back of his thigh, rocking his ass gently against the growing hardness in Nico’s shorts. Martino didn’t ask for anything, didn’t need to as Nico pressed a kiss to his hairline, closed his eyes for a second and listened to Martino’s breathing.

It was soft and steady, a slight hum to his exhales as Nico met his hips, a whimper of longing as Nico brushed his hair aside, let his lips ghost over his skin.

His hands slipped under Martino’s shirt, smoothing up his back, feeling Martino lean into the touch, into Nico, his whole body warm and solid, safe in Nico’s hands.

Martino’s hand on Nico’s thigh shifted away as Nico’s own smoothed over his hips, hooked over his waistband and edged the boxers down. In his ear, Martino made a small noise, gentle, wanting, encouraging as Nico got his boxers bunched around his thighs, took a second to press a kiss behind Martino’s ear as he shifted to slide his own shorts off.

He smiled against Martino’s shoulder as he felt Martino pull away, just for a second, to his side of the bed, leaning back against Nico as he pressed the condom into his hand, dropped the lube on the bed behind him without a single word and edged back against him, ass pressed to Nico’s growing erection.

It wasn’t about sex, though, not really, not even as Nico rolled on the condom and popped open the lube, pushed the first finger inside and held his breath even as Martino exhaled, shaky.

It was so much more than that as Nico pulled Martino close, chest pressed to his back, a hand firm over his heart, feeling the faint thud underneath his fingers, through the thin grey fabric of his shirt. It was Martino moaning, delicate, as Nico pressed inside him, was the way their hips moved together, an easy rhythm they fell into like coming home, the heat on the back of Martino’s neck as Nico pressed his lips there, stayed to listen to Martino’s quiet noises with each push of his hips.

It was warmth and softness and butterflies all over again as Nico slid inside Martino, drawing out his panted breaths, closing his eyes at the heat all around him, licking up his spine like flames in a fire.

Martino moaned as Nico moved, hand bunching in his shirt, trying to pull Nico closer, as if there was any space left between them.

“Marti,” Nico murmured against his neck, barely a breath, holding himself back from coming too soon as he pressed inside him, slow and steady and not as careful as he wanted to be, but Martino didn’t seem to care, tangling their fingers together over his chest as he sighed.

Panted breath rose in the otherwise quiet apartment, over the faint buzz of the fan, the rustle of sheets as they moved together. 

Time stilled, the only noise Martino’s breath in his ear, the only feeling the heat of Martino’s body against his, the scent of sweat and faded cologne as he pressed his face to the top of Martino’s spine, a rush of emotion welling in his chest as he untangled their fingers, slid his hand down to grip Martino’s erection, stroke him in time to each roll of his hips.

“Fuck, Ni,” Martino breathed, voice muffled in the pillow, a sharp gasp following as his hips jerked, his hand reaching down to cover Nico’s, stroke faster.

Nico buried his face, muffling his noise against Martino’s neck as heat rippled through his stomach, curling in his gut, a throb in his prick as he pressed inside Martino, hooked a leg over his hip. He couldn’t hold on, not much longer, not with Martino’s whines in his ear, sharp breaths and whispered curses as Martino’s body tightened around his.

“ _Fuck_.” Nico couldn’t stop himself as he came, gritting his teeth, face pressed to the back of Martino’s neck, letting the warmth wash over him as his hips rocked into Martino, slowed with a stutter as he swallowed finally.

Martino groaned in response, hand still covering Nico’s on his cock, tightening his grip, biting his lip as he slipped back against Nico.

Nico knew when Martino came, if not from the warm wetness on his hand, but from the way Martino’s whole body tensed a second before, how he sucked in a breath, turned his head to Nico’s mouth, a sloppy kiss on the corner between panted breaths.

They sank into the mattress, Nico sliding his hand away, pulling out gently but cuddling up behind Martino, no space left now.

Exhaling a slow breath, Nico closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the warmth of Martino’s body against his, hand resting on his shoulder. He wasn’t afraid Martino would pull away, felt sated and satisfied in a way he hadn’t for a while, as if for once, his mind could be silent.

He opened his eyes only when Martino moved, reaching down to pull his boxers back up, roll over to face Nico. Martino’s smile made Nico’s chest swell, and he returned it as Martino leaned in for a kiss.

“I got everything I wanted,” he murmured, meeting Nico’s gaze, snuggled into the pillow, looking adorably tired and happy.

“Good,” was all Nico said as Martino pulled him into a hug, foreheads pressed together, a last sigh between them as they closed their eyes and let the night finally wash over them.


End file.
